Logan's Run For The Bathroom
by butterflybrain
Summary: Logan gets sick, Rogue takes care of him.
1. Where Rogue keeps schtum

Logan's Run For The Bathroom

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, save the storyline. If you want to sell me Logan, then e-mail me.

Feedback: I live for it.

Notes: Some people may be a bit OOC (out of character), but it's my fic and that's how I want it.

Chapter 1: Where Rogue keeps schtum.

"Logan?" Rogue knocked on his door. "You okay?"

Logan hadn't been looking so good at dinner, which was unusual for him, what with the whole healing thing. Rogue had decided to check up on him after he'd left in the middle of dinner.

"Logan, you in there?" She knocked a little louder.

"Go away, kid," came the reply from behind the door.

"Are you okay?" asked Rogue.

"Fine, kid," replied Logan, "now go back down to dinner."

"Can I come in?" asked Rogue. "I'm worried about you."

"Don't be, I'm fine."

"Then can I come in?"

There was a pause. He was obviously trying to think of a reason not to let her in, without worrying her.

Apparently he couldn't think of one. Rogue heard the lock click. She tried the door and it swung open.

Rogue entered the room. She looked about in the dim light, realising the heavy curtains were drawn. There was a large, Logan-sized lump under the blankets on the four-poster bed. Rogue walked over and sat on the edge of the mattress. She leaned over and poked the Logan-lump.

"Gerroff!" growled the lump.

"You gonna come out from under there, sugar?" Rogue asked softly.

"Ugghh…"

"Guess that's a no."

The bedsheets shifted slightly, and one deep chocolate brown eye appeared. It blinked a couple of times and focused. Squinted up at Rogue.

"Hey," she half whispered.

"Mmph," was the reply.

"What's wrong?" Rogue asked. The one eye was joined by its twin. Both blinked at Rogue.

"Don't feel good," Logan's voice was muffled by the blankets that were still wrapped around his body.

"How dontcha feel good, sugar?"

"Gotta pain in my head, my belly don't seem to like what I been feedin' it, an' my arms an' legs feel heavy."

"Awww, poor Logan. You've probably caught a virus." Rogue sympathised. She remembered having something similar a couple of years back. She put her arms around where she hoped Logan's waist was.

"Whaddya mean, virus?" Logan sounded confused. "I don't get sick."

"Cus of your healing mutation?"

"Mmm." The effort of talking seemed to have sapped Logan's energy almost completely.

"Maybe when you lent your healing power to me, it kinda, I don't know, drained you, making you susceptible to viruses and things," Rogue reasoned.

"So I'll go get Jean, and she can give you a shot or some pills or something."

She unwrapped her arms from around Logan and started to rise off the bed. A large hand suddenly snaked out from beneath the bedclothes and caught her wrist. It was a very weak grip, one that Rogue could've twisted out of with very little effort. Logan- weak? This was worrying.

"Wait," Logan croaked.

"What?" Rogue bent down at the side of the bed, level with Logan's eyes.

"Don't tell. Not Jean, not Chuck, no-one. Ya hear?"

"But, but…" Rogue spluttered. "You're sick!"

"Exactly."

Rogue paused. The 'Logan' inside her head, the one left over from the times she'd touched him, was trying to tell her something. So she listened.

In a flash of clarity, she understood. She had had an idea before, but know she knew for sure. Logan hated people relating him to the word 'weak'. Being sick made him weak.

"Okay, sugar. I'll keep schtum." She mimed zipping her mouth closed. Logan gave a ghost of a grin. It wasn't much, but it was something.

"You want me to stay, Logan?" Rogue asked, in that soft, southern voice. He just looked at her. Well, it was a silly question. Of course he wanted her to stay.

"Alright, I'll stay. Do you want me to get you some water or something?"

Logan cocked his head slightly. Now that he thought about it, his mouth did feel kind of funny. Slowly, so as not to anger whatever the hell it was that was making his head feel so damn bad, he nodded.

"Okay, then. I'll sneak some medicine out of the cupboard as well."

Rogue got up and walked to the door.

"Back in a flash," she said, "so don't go anywhere."

Like he could. Logan looked at the clock.

Tick, tick, tick. He watched it until Rogue tapped on the door and came in.

"Hey sugar."

"You were gone three minutes and forty-two seconds."

"How d'ya know that?"

"Clock. Can ya turn it off? Kinda hurts my head, what with the enhanced hearing."

Rogue came over and took the battery out of the clock. Logan sighed in relief.

"Thanks darlin'."

Rogue looked at him. That was the first time he had ever called her 'darlin''. It was always 'kid', or 'Rogue' She smiled to herself. Jean may be the one he looked at, but she was the one he talked to, cared about.

"You got that medicine you were talkin' about?" Logan's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Here."

She put the pills in Logan's outstretched hand. He looked at them.

"What do I do with 'em?"

Rogue smothered a giggle. Logan glared up at her.

"Never had to take medicine before," he growled.

"Okay, okay. Sorry." Rogue bent down to eye level with him.

"You put them in your mouth, and swallow them with water."

Logan opened his mouth, chucked the pills in, and reached his hand out for the glass of water. Rogue handed it to him, and he took a gulp. He paused.

"Nothin's happenin'."

Rogue sighed. "They don't work instantly. They take time."

Logan muttered something under his breath. It sounded rude. Rogue looked at him and gave him her best glare. It shut him up almost instantly. She supposed Logan was being meek because she was the one with the pills and the water.

Logan, meek! Never thought I'd see the day! Rogue swallowed another giggle. Unfortunately Logan noticed. Damn those enhanced senses of his!

"What?" he grunted.

"Nothin'," Rogue replied. Logan raised an eyebrow, but didn't press further.

"Now, you get some rest," said Rogue.

"Don't wanna." said Logan, sounding like a petulant child.

"What do you _want _to do?" asked Rogue.

"Talk to you."

Rogue looked down at Logan. He blinked up at her for a moment, then slowly slid across the bed. He patted the space he had made. A smile flickered across Rogue's face.

"Okay," she said, "but only for a little while."

Logan gave her a crooked smile.

"So, whaddya want to talk about, sugar?"

"Dunno." croaked Logan, sniffling.

"How about what you're going to get Jean and Scott for their wedding anniversary?" Rogue suggested innocently.

Logan glared, and wiped his nose on the back of his hand.

"Ewww!" squealed Rogue. Logan looked abashed.

"Here," She passed him the box of tissues.

"Thanks," he replied, with most of his face buried in about fifteen tissues.

Rogue sighed. This was going to be a long recovery. For her.


	2. Where Logan is afraid of peaches

Previously on "Logan's Run For The Bathroom": Go and read the first chapter, lazy! .

Chapter 2: Where Logan is afraid of peaches.

The next day…

Rogue hummed softly to herself as she walked down the corridor to Logan's room. The time she had spent yesterday with Logan had definitely strengthened their bond, even if for most of it he had been buried under the duvet with half a box of man-sized (what else?) tissues clamped to his face.

Rogue rounded the corner and her smile slipped onto her shoes.

"Rogue!"

"Jean…"

"Rogue, do you happen to know where Logan is? I've looked all over."

"Ummm… he said something about needing some 'alone time', you know, to think… and stuff."

"Logan… think?" Jean sounded understandably confused. Logan appeared to live by instinct.

"Oh yeah, Logan's big on thinking, doesn't really make a big thing of it though…" Rogue trailed off. She never could lie convincingly. Jean seemed to buy it however.

"Okay then," she said, "if you see him, ask him to stop by the lab will you?"

"Ummm, sure," replied Rogue, "anything else?"

"No, that's all. I'd better get going, Scott's taking me out to lunch and I have to get ready."

Jean smiled at Rogue, turned and walked off in the direction Rogue had come from. Rogue peeked round the corner and watched till she was sure Jean wouldn't remember something and come back. She turned back to Logan's door.

Tap tap.

"Logan? It's me, Rogue. Can I come in?"

A half-hearted groan was the answer. Rogue presumed it meant yes. She knew for sure a moment later when she heard the thump of someone half crawling, half falling out of bed, then the door clicking unlocked. Tentatively she pushed open the door and was greeted with the sight of Logan's butt more out of sweatpants than in.

Rogue sighed, pushed the door shut, and placed her bag on the floor. Walking over to the bed, which Logan had managed to get his head, arms, shoulders and chest on to, she pulled up Logan's grey sweatpants, got hold just behind his knees and hoiked, sliding him and duvet onto the bed. A guy with an adamantium skeleton is pretty hefty, so it was lucky Rogue worked out. And let's face it, Logan's not exactly a scrawny guy anyway.

Placing a pillow under Logan's flushed face and tucking the duvet up around his bare chest, she checked Logan's temperature. Phew, he was burning up. Rogue turned towards the bathroom with the intent of fetching a cool, wet washcloth for Logan's forehead, but a weak moan stopped her in her tracks. She looked back at the bed. Logan was sleepily gazing back at her.

"You saw my butt," he croaked softly. Rogue hid a smile.

"Don't worry about it sugar,"

"But don't I get to see yours?"

Rogue stared at him in disbelief. Logan grinned.

"Gotcha," he said, his voice cracking on the word. Rogue quit staring and started glaring (even though she was secretly thrilled).

"Do you want me to play nursemaid or not?" she asked in her sternest voice. Logan cast his eyes down.

"Sorry darlin'."

Rogue couldn't resist his dejected face. Plus she couldn't ignore the fact that he had just called her "darlin' " again.

"Okay then. Now you just lie back and rest, and I'll be back in a minute."

"Where're you going?"

"The bathroom, to get a washcloth for your forehead."

" 'Kay," Logan all but lisped.

Rogue went into the en suite bathroom, found a clean washcloth and ran it under the cold tap. She also grabbed a bowl she found under the basin.

_Just in case. _She thought. _I'd rather not be cleaning puke out of the bedclothes._

When she went back into the bedroom, Logan was staring in the direction of the bathroom, obviously waiting for her to return.

"Here, lie on your back," said Rogue. She placed the washcloth on his forehead. Logan sighed as his burning, aching head was soothed. The bowl was put on the floor by the bed. Logan leaned over the side of the bed and looked quizzically at it.

"It's in case you need to throw up," Rogue stage-whispered. She picked up the washcloth that had dropped to the floor when Logan had leaned over. She gently pushed him back onto the bed and put the washcloth back into place.

"You hungry sugar?"

"Little bit."

Rogue went and picked up her bag from by the door, and carried it over to the bed. She sat down in the space where Logan had shifted over to make room for her. She rummaged around in the bag until her hand closed on the item she was searching for.

"Here you go, it's good for you," said Rogue, holding out a fuzzy, pale orange ball. Logan's face froze into an almost comical mask of horror.

"What… is… that?" he choked out.

"A peach," replied Rogue, puzzled, "don't you like peaches?"

In response, Logan dived under the duvet.

"So that would be a 'no' then?"

No sound from Logan.

"Sugar," Rogue ventured, "you okay?"

"Peachy," came the gruff reply.


	3. Where Logan gets some Southern comfort

Chapter 3: Where Logan gets some southern comfort.

Rogue had eighty-sixed the peach and left Logan munching on some apple slices. He hadn't explained why he'd freaked out over the peach, and Rogue hadn't asked. With a past like Logan's, sometimes questions were better left unanswered.

Checking the kitchen was deserted, Rogue went over to the fridge to see what she could find.

_Ginger ale - perfect._

Snagging the ginger ale and a plastic Pocahontas tumbler, Rogue made sure the coast was clear, then legged it to the stairs. Another quick glance, and she took the stairs two at a time. She sprinted down the corridor to Logan's door and rapped softly, then let herself in with Logan's key that she'd pilfered. She really didn't want to have to lift Logan into bed again. As tight as his buns were, that guy was heavy.

"Whatcha bring me?" asked Logan, sounding more stuffed up than ever.

"Ginger ale. It settles your stomach, helps dispel the nausea," replied Rogue, pouring some out and handing it to him.

"Who's this chick?" he asked, "She's kinda hot."

"Pocahontas, and she's a cartoon. You can't fancy a cartoon."

"Why not?"

"Cus she's not real."

"Neither are most actresses. Probably made of more plastic than this cup," said Logan, smugly.

Rogue just rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Drink your ginger ale."

Leaning over, she took Logan's washcloth off his forehead and went to the bathroom to re-wet it. Coming back in, she gently placed the cloth back on Logan's head.

"Can you do that again?" asked Logan.

"Do what?"

"Lean over me like that - it's a great view, " Logan replied with as much of a grin as he could muster.

Rogue looked down. Well, her top _was_ kind of low. Why not show him what he was missing out on? He was probably delirious anyway.

"Here, lean forward."

She helped Logan sit up, making sure he got a good look down her cleavage. He couldn't miss it, considering his face was all of three inches away.

Reaching around him, Rogue plumped up the pillows (making sure to jiggle a little), and lowered Logan back down.

"Now we're even for me seeing your butt," she said with a grin.

"What if I flash you something else?" asked Logan from behind a handful of tissues.

"Sorry, it doesn't work like that. You're volunteering your body to be ogled."

"What happened to 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours'?"

"I told you, it doesn't work like that."

Logan's face was the picture of disappointment. Rogue pretended not to notice.

"Now, do you want to talk or sleep? Or I'll go if you want…?"

Logan shook his head emphatically.

"Ow. Hurts."

"Aww, poor thing."

Rogue went and sat on the bed next to Logan. She started stroking his head, running her fingers through his hair.

"Mmm, nice," muttered Logan, a blissful little smile on his stubbly face.

Rogue was happy. She was stroking Logan! Okay, just his hair, but beggars can't be choosers. And it was so soft!

Rogue decided to be a little more daring. If Logan got funny about it later, she'd just say he must have been hallucinating. Slowly, so as not to startle him, Rogue lay down next to Logan. She laid her hand across his bare chest and crossed one of her legs over one of his.

Logan's reaction was a little unexpected. With a happy sigh he snuggled closer towards her, laying his head just above her breast and resting his hand on her hip.

Rogue didn't know whether Logan was aware of what he was doing, but quite frankly she couldn't give a damn. She and Logan were cuddled up in bed together! Granted he was sweaty and snotty, but she'd take it just the same.

Rogue suppressed a yawn. All this nursemaid stuff sure took it out of you. Maybe she'd just close her eyes for a second…

Several hours later…

"Mmph."

Rogue opened her eyes a slit. Registered the warm body entwined with hers.

"Hey sleepyhead."

Rogue sat up suddenly. Of course, she'd snuggled up with Logan. She must have fallen asleep.

"I thought I was the one supposed to get lots of rest," said Logan with a sly grin.

"I… I guess… I just closed my eyes for a bit…"

"Obviously," said Logan, still grinning.

"Anyway, you're apparently feeling better," said Rogue, defensively.

"Mmm," agreed Logan. "Still not great, but my head doesn't fell like a bomb went off in there."

"Well, that's good," Rogue said encouragingly. "Now, I have a question."

Logan looked at her suspiciously.

"Go on."

"What's the deal with you and peaches?"

"Nuthin'."

"Tell me."

"You'll laugh."

"No I won't."

Logan sighed.

"Yesterday, when you weren't here, I had a nightmare," he began hesitantly.

"Was it… the lab?"

"No, worse."

"Worse!"

Logan sighed again, deeper this time.

"An enormous peach was chasin' me an' it had sharp pointy teeth an' big-" Logan broke off to glare at Rogue, who was biting down on her lower lip in an attempt to rein in her laughter. After a minute she managed to control it. Then she caught sight of Logan's face.

"Oh Logan, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh, but it sounds ridiculous. I'm sure it was very scary though."

Logan didn't respond.

"Logan?"

Nothing.

"Well fine, if you're gonna be like that…"

Rogue turned to slide off the bed, but Logan reached over and grabbed her around the waist.

"Don't go," he said, his brown eyes gazing into hers, "I want you to stay."

"Why?" asked Rogue. This was it. How he answered determined whether they would be friends… or something more. After all, he'd been flirting with her a lot. But maybe that's all it was - simple flirting.

"Because you're warm and you smell nice and you lean over me in low-cut tops and you care about me and I lo-" Logan stopped suddenly, as if he'd said too much.

"Because you…?"

Logan swallowed. It had to be said. Time to lay his cards on the table. If she freaked he could always pretend he was delirious.

"Because I love you Marie. You know, in _that_ way."

Rogue's mind whirled. Logan loved her! In _that_ way! And he looked so damn cute, with that apprehensive look on his face. Rogue's face split into an enormous grin. At the sight of it, Logan couldn't help grinning back.

"Come here you!" he said, pulling her back down and snuggling into her side. Giggling, Rogue rested her cheek on Logan's broad chest. She splayed her fingers through his and let out a contented sigh.

"So darlin', you an' me?"

"You and me," affirmed Rogue.

"Now about that 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours'…"


End file.
